At the Beginning with You
by demonbarber14
Summary: Valentine is in need of a bodyguard. Gazelle is bored and in need of a job. The rest is history.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, man" Richmond Valentine leaned in towards the billionaire across the table. "Do you think I should a bodyguard too?" He nodded towards the burly man in the suit, who blended into the corner remarkably well.

"You mean you don't _have_ one, Mr. Valentine?"

"Nope" he spread his arms "I always kinda thought it would hurt my image, but with all the new business I've been doing recently, I've been attracting a lot more attention."

"Oh, but you're so popular, Mr. Valentine!"

"But that's just it! See, when I was just a faceless billionaire, no one cared if I lived or died, right? No offence." he quickly added "But now that people know who I am, if some psycho wanted to get famous, he'd just have to bump me off and have his face on the cover of every newspaper and magazine in the country. In the world, if the deals I'm working on come through"

"That's a very good point, Mr. Valentine. We don't want another Mark David Chapman getting his hands on you. Mr. Schoppa" he beckoned and the bodyguard stepped forward. "Do you happen to remember the number of the agency you came from?"

"Yes, I do. Would you like me to write it down on this hamburger wrapper for you, Mr. Valentine?"

"Thanks, man."

After Mr. Schoppa was done, Richmond Valentine put the wrapper in his pocket, seemingly oblivious to the grease stains it was covered in. Of course he already had countless hundreds of people working for him, both in his legitimate company and in his covert operation, but there was something different about having a bodyguard. They'd just be so _present_. It would be like having a roommate again, but one who was prepared to die for him. They wouldn't really have to, though, just stand there and look vaguely threatening.

Comforted by that thought, he called the agency the next day to make an appointment. Of course, they had no problem accommodating him, and that weekend, he was driven to the gym to watch the contenders. He stepped through the double doors, and before the owner could even walk over to greet him, the decapitated head of a training manikin flew across the room and landed directly at his feet.

"What the _fuck_ " he immediately looked in the direction the head had come from, as the other people training had backed away from the culprit, standing all the way across the room. Even if they hadn't, she would have been easy to spot. Her legs were the first things he saw; how could they not be? Metallic and sharp, they seemed to gleam dangerously, even while she stood perfectly still. His eyes travelled upwards from where her deadly feet disappeared under her baggy, standard issue training uniform, to the light brown skin, black hair, and severe expression on her face.

"Did you do that?"

She cocked an eyebrow, and he realized how stupid the question sounded, especially as he realized the manikin in front of her was missing a head.

He walked towards her. "What's your name?"

"Gazelle" she replied sharply, holding out her hand. He shook it, unsurprised at how firm her grip was.

"Do you-I mean, can you—Can I see you do more of that?"

She cast a quick glance at the manager, and Valentine caught the anxious look on his doughy face. "Don't worry, I'll pay for the damage." Valentine added quickly.

"All right, then. Go for it, Gazelle."

Everyone in the gym quickly flattened themselves against the walls, and Valentine followed suit. Gazelle glanced at the manager, who gave her a slight nod. Without any further prompting, she sliced off the hand of a nearby manikin, and after that, it was nearly impossible to follow her movements. The plastic limbs, ears, and noses littered the floor, as she kicked and flipped, sliced and hacked her way through the room. As the last manikin fell to the ground, in two symmetrical halves, she turned to face Valentine. "All right, Mr. Valentine?"

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, that was…whoa."

"Do I have the job?"

"Yes, of course! We'll have to go over a few details, but yes, absolutely."

She nodded towards the manager. "I think Mr. Peay wants to talk to you. I'll see you when you're done." She turned with a flip of her hair and strode away gracefully.

Valentine turned towards Mr. Peay, who looked even more distressed than before.

"Mr. Valentine" he took his arm and led him to his private office, having to kick away the stray arm and ear on the way. "Mr. Valentine, it's no doubt that Gazelle is talented; in fact, she's probably the best athlete who's ever trained here, but I'm afraid I can't recommend her as a bodyguard."

"And why's that?"

"Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, she can be a bit of a loose cannon. I think she'd be bored in a job that might never require her to use her abilities, and I think you might have some difficulty keeping her out of trouble. On top of that, all things considered, she doesn't exist. Believe me, I've tried, but I can't even find her real name, let alone anything about her family or where she comes from." He laughed. "Frankly, the only job I could really recommend her for would be a paid assassin."

Valentine smiled. _Perfect_.

"Well, thank you for your concern, Mr. Peay, but I think I can handle it. I'll be sure she always has plenty to do."

"Of course, Mr. Valentine, if you're sure. You know, this was the first time I've seen Gazelle smile at a perspective client, let alone show off for one. Maybe you will be a good influence on her." He pressed a button on the intercom. "You can come up, Gazelle."

She walked in almost immediately, and Valentine made a mental note that she liked listening in at keyholes.

"Well, I'll leave you to it." Mr. Peay shuffled out of the office, as Gazelle took his chair.

"So, Gazelle." Valentine paused, not quite knowing what to ask. "What makes you want to work for my company?"

She gave that slight smile again. "Would you believe it's because I like your phones?"

"No, I wouldn't. I mean, you could be working for the CIA if you wanted."

"Government doesn't interest me."

"You don't think you'd be bored as a bodyguard?"

"Mr. Valentine, I somehow think that what you're doing is about something more than phones."

"Yeah, we're working on all kinds of new technologies-"

"That's not quite what I meant."

"I don't know what you mean, Gazelle."

"I could be wrong, but there are rumors, and computers can be hacked. I have to say, whatever it is you're doing, you have been good at hiding it. I've hardly gotten any really relevant information. And don't worry about this room, by the way, it's not bugged, and Peay is too far away to hear anything."

"How much do you know?"

She leaned back. "As I say, you've been good at covering it all up. Literally all I know is that you're on your way to having a meeting with most every major politician and businessman in the world, and when you do, you send their bodyguards away. There have been a few cryptic references to your environmental work, but that's all I really have to go on. And Mr. Valentine, if you are planning something, I would recommend you hire me."

"And why's that?"

"Well, if someone finds out, or if someone gets in your way, I can _deal_ with them better than anyone else. Besides, it's entirely possible that if you don't hire me, someone who doesn't like you will, and if that's the case…" She stretched her leg a tiny bit, but it was enough to make the metal shine menacingly. "All your money isn't going to help you."

He found himself smiling, in spite of himself. She was _good_. Better yet, she was direct, a quality he found lacking in most everyone he had dealt with recently.

"I understand completely. How much do you want a week?"

The figure she named was remarkably low, and he agreed to it immediately.

"Now, I have an extra room in my house where I was thinking my bodyguard would live, but if you're not comfortable with that, then we can come up with another arrangement."

"No, I really don't care. Your house has a gym, doesn't it?"

"And a pool."

"Good. I can do all my training there and not have to come back here."

"Well, that's perfect. I'll be back tomorrow with the contract."

"Don't bother, I can come to you. Does 5:30 work? PM?"

"All right. I like it."

She nodded curtly and walked toward the door.

"One more thing" he stopped her. "When you…do your thing, is there a lot of blood."

She smiled, the first _real_ smile he saw her give. "Oh yes, Mr. Valentine. But no fingerprints, obviously, so it can't be traced."

"That's great and all, but you see, I've got this thing about blood. Like, I take one look at it, and I just lose it, I mean, I am gone" he accompanied the statement with an appropriate hand gesture.

"I'm sure we can find a way around that, Mr. Valentine. And thank goodness you weren't born with a uterus."

They walked of the office together, and as he settled things with Peay, he congratulated himself on the perfect choice he had made.


	2. Chapter 2

Gazelle automatically straightened her jacket before knocking on the door. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt excited about a job. It had certainly taken her long enough to find this one. As she knew Peay always said, being a regular bodyguard to some rich asshole would have bored her. Even a relatively more exciting government job wouldn't have been any better, if she had been able to be hired for one. At least rich men admired the "novelty" of her, a phrase she despised. She knew that politicians, however, were afraid of her legs taking attention away from her speeches and of being mocked for going out of their way to hire a disabled bodyguard, a disabled, non-white, female bodyguard, no less. Because really, who would believe that she was the best?

Valentine seemed different, though. When she first heard he was coming, she hadn't thought much of the news; she assumed he was another rich bitch; the only question was whether he would be the type to ignore her entirely or make a stupid joke about her "killer legs". Either way, she knew that an uncooperative glower would shut him off. It was idle locker-room conversation that changed her mind, though.

Amidst the usual gossip, she heard one of them causally mention a meeting Valentine had had with a Professor Yanes, a scientist so controversial, he needed a bodyguard after receiving a large batch of hate mail. Even more intriguing was the fact that the bodyguard had been sent out of the room during the meeting. For anyone else, this wouldn't have been considered out of the ordinary, but Professor Yanes needed his bodyguard around him at all times, and was not afraid to let him in on some allegedly hair-raising information. So, whatever Valentine wanted from him must have been truly dastardly to warrant such banishment. Naturally, Gazelle decided to investigate the instant she returned to her tiny apartment, but in spite of being able to hack into the company's computers, she could hardly find any relevant information, a sure sign he was hiding something. She even did a brief search on the Internet for any other information on him. Not even anti-technology naysayers had anything bad to say about him. He had a commitment to protecting privacy, and his company was ecologically friendly, not to mention completely humane. In short, whatever he was planning must be horrific beyond belief, just the thing to relieve her boredom.

She gave her usual slight smile when Valentine opened the door.

"Hey, Gazelle! You're right on time!"

As he ushered her into his mansion, she momentarily worried about scuffing the floor with her feet, but if her impressions of Valentine had been correct, he wouldn't care.

"Want me to show you your room first?"

"Yes, thank you."

She picked up her small duffel and as he led her through his labyrinth-like home. "So, there's no problem with you moving in here? No family or roommate to worry about?"

"No, I'm used to moving on very short notice."

"Yeah? That sounds exciting. I've been here for about ten years at this point, so I think my wandering days are over. I mean, I've got other houses around the world that I go to, but that don't really count as moving."

She smiled at his exuberance. "How many houses do you have?"

"Now, I would have thought you'd know that from your _extensive_ research. I'd have bet you could tell me the taxes on all of them."

"That's not the sort of information I'm interested in, Mr. Valentine."

"Well, don't worry, Gazelle, I'll tell you everything you want to know"

"Really?" she cocked an eyebrow as he opened the door to her room.

"Absolutely. I make it a policy to tell everyone who works for me. That way, they can offer their own suggestions, and won't be taken by surprise. Besides, when I tell you what I'm doing, you'll realize it's only common sense."

Gazelle didn't hear his final statement, as she stared in wonder at the room in front of her. The sheer size was impressive enough, but complied with the priceless art, state of the art computer, and ornate furnishing, it was breathtaking.

"Now, you can obviously redecorate any way you want; this just used to be one of the guest rooms."

"No, Mr. Valentine, I think I'll be very comfortable here."

"Good, good! So, how about you unpack and we can have dinner at 7:00 and discuss things."

"All right, Mr. Valentine."

"Great, I'll see you then." He smiled and left her alone in the room.

She unpacked methodically, and after getting lost a few times, she knocked on the dining room door at 7:00 exactly. The incongruity of the scene amused her. There on the priceless dining table were two cardboard pizza boxes, and sitting at the table was Valentine in his customary baseball cap and baggy clothes.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what do you think?" Valentine asked her.

"Of your idea or the pizza?"

"Either one."

"I like them both." She replied simply. "May I ask a question, though?"

"Yeah, of course!" He'd expected her to agree with him, any rational person would, but most of the people who worked for him were tongue-tied in his presence to give any valuable input.

"How will you stop people from talking? People usually do, especially celebrities and scientists."

"Yeah, I thought of that. See, if I talk to someone and they don't agree with me, I'll just…keep them safe here until the day comes."

"We're going to kidnap them?"

"Well, sure!"

She gave a bemused little laugh. "It'll keep them from blabbing, that's for sure. But what about the people who do agree with you? I'm sure at least one of them will either lie to you or slip up later. And if they do, we can't get to them, until it's too late."

He sighed. "You think people would do that? I'd _hate_ that."

"Well, we'll just make sure they don't." She rose from her chair and started for the door. "I'll sleep on it. And thanks for the pizza, by the way."

She certainly was enigmatic, Valentine had to admit to himself. While he'd told her about his plan for the rebirth of humanity, she hadn't given any sort of reaction positive or negative, yet she'd immediately started making suggestions of her own. He took that as a good sign, obviously she was loyal without being too passive. He needed more of that from he people who worked for him. Sometimes it was even hard to tell whether his ideas were good or not, since both his employees and the media hadn't challenged him in years. Then again, all of his ideas had been good, he told himself, so there was never a reason to worry.

He got up the next morning and walked downstairs to find her Gazelle at the bottom of the stairs wearing the same black and white outfit from the day before and clutching a smart black clipboard.

"Hey, Gazelle, lookin' good."

"Mr. Valentine." She smiled and inclined her head slightly. "I was thinking about that matter we mulled over last night, and I think I may have come up with a solution. Just let me know when you'd like to discuss it."

"Well, I don't see why we can't talk about it over breakfast." He ushered her into the dining room, and enjoyed her look of pleasure at the massive stack of pancakes gracing the middle of the table.

"All right." She sat down and placed the clipboard on the table. "Now, I obviously don't know all the details, but you're the technology magnate, so I assume you can come up with something. But you said that the…chosen ones would be equipped with a chip to block the transmission from the phones."

"Yeah, as soon as we're done figuring out exactly how the transmission will work, we'll start working on the chip."

She nodded. "What I'm thinking, then, is that you put a bug in the chip that'll alert you when the wearer says certain key words, Valentine, global warming, doomsday, V-Day, whatever. Then once you've been alerted, you can listen in on what they're saying more closely. If it's an innocuous conversation, you can ignore it, but if you realize they're going to give you away, you activate a tiny bomb or something you've implanted in the chip that'll kill them on the spot, along with the people they've been talking to."

"Now that" he paused, at a loss for words "that is the most fucked up shit I have _ever_ heard!"

"So, you like it?"

"Like it? Hey, listen, you wanna be my personal assistant as well as bodyguard?"

"Will my salary double?"

"Triple"

She gave that real smile again and reached for a pancake. "I accept, Mr. Valentine."

"And you know, Gazelle, you don't have to wear that uniform every day. You can just wear jeans and a T-shirt if you want"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do I _look_ like I own jeans and a T-shirt"?

They made some small talk about the weather and the world domination plan before going to his main business office. He was proud to note that the people who worked for him only paid Gazelle's legs a minimum of attention, usually a long glance at most, but then again, her haughty poise would prevent anything else. He gave her a tour of the building, which boasted a gym, game room, and bowling ally for all his employees, and introduced her to everyone she needed to know. Finally, he took her into his office and showed her the files relevant to their plan. She read carefully, going back and fourth between pages for clarification and asking Valentine about any discrepancies in data. By the time she was done, she'd come up with numerous suggestions, not to mention critiques. By the end, he was exhausted but grateful. That girl was a godsend, a knife-legged godsend, and he congratulated himself on making the right decision, as always.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few weeks were the most dizzying that Gazelle had ever experienced. She hadn't needed to actually defend Valentine against anyone, since no part of the plan had been put into operation, though sometimes she thought that gunfights would be easier than the seemingly endless interviews, benefits, speeches, and business meetings she had to go to in connection with his legitimate business, not to mention the caffeine-fueled hours plotting world domination. She had even found herself wearing pink party dresses to certain events, especially when Valentine told her that the entire population of the world could die happy after having seen her in a skin tight, low-cut little number; really, who was she to refuse?

Soon, any formalities between her and Valentine were dispensed with. In the privacy of his soundproof office, she called him Richmond, took off her tight black jacket when it got too hot, and even the unthinkable, shared a couch with him while they looked over the seemingly endless charts and figures. Being in such close proximity all the time naturally led to innumerable disagreements and annoyances on both sides, especially since it was clear that Valentine wasn't used to being argued with. They had their unspoken rules, of course; no matter how heated their fights got, and how often they cursed and yelled, he never mentioned her legs and she never mentioned his lisp. None of her other clients had even bothered to ask her opinion on anything before, so she took it as a compliment that Valentine always listened to her and in spite of any initial misgivings, usually followed her suggestions. She sometimes marveled at his stupidity and insensitivity, but it was understandable. He had been something of a child prodigy, and had consequently spent those foundational years cloistered away in fancy prep schools and later at MIT. He had never been given a chance to grow, to interact with children his own age and learn how human relationships worked. Besides, all the pampering he had received from his parents and teachers meant that he actually _believed_ he was some kind of savior sent to Earth to protect humanity from itself.

In spite of his innumerable flaws, she started to like him. Eventually, their closeness impacted what little time they spent at his— _their_ house, as she had started to think of it, after having strong-armed him into getting rid of some old art pieces and buying new ones and after he changed the bedroom and the gym to her specifications. One day, she even let him watch her work out, hardly thinking anything of the fact that she only wore a sports bra and shorts. He teased her about her choice of music, insisting that anyone as "badass" as she was didn't listen to Iggy Azalea. She countered with a comment on his taste in movies, and when he argued that early James Bond films were "classics", she responded by playfully kicking his hat off.

"Jesus _fuck_ , Gazelle! You could have taken my fucking face off!"

She couldn't help but smile at his consternation. "Richmond, you're going to be the leader of the _world_ in a couple of months. What kind of fearless leader will you be if you can't handle blood or sharp objects."

"Well, that's your job, to protect me from all that stuff, not take my fucking face off!"

"I'm sorry, Richmond." Giddy from the intense exercise session, she leaned forward and kissed his nose. "I won't kick near your face again." She gracefully picked the hat up and put it back on his head. "I'm going to get dressed now. I don't think we have anything else on for today, so meet me in the living room?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll see if there's anything good on."

As the weeks went by, they finally started recruiting important people for their plan. At first, they only consulted with personal friends of Valentine's, people they knew would support him and were equally invested in both environmental protection and self-preservation. Some of them balked at the idea of a chip implant, but they all acquiesced eventually, especially when Valentine pointed out that everyone who worked for him already had one. Everyone except Gazelle. She questioned him about it; after all, she knew more details than anyone.

"Yeah, well, you know" Valentine offered as an explanation. "I don't really see the point. I mean, it's not like I give you any time off to tell anyone."

"Oh, is that the reason?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing. I just thought that maybe it was because you didn't want my head to explode."

"That too. I mean I don't want _anyone's_ head to explode." He put his arm around her. "But especially not yours."

So, _that's_ how things were. After quickly checking to make sure no one was around, she gave him a delicate peck on the cheek. He grinned and kissed her softly on the lips. It was too quick to be good, but at least it was promising.

"Now listen," he continued. "That Prime Minister dude is gonna be here in fifteen minutes, do you have those files we promised him?"

"Of course, I'll go get them right away." As she turned to walk towards her room, he lightly smacked her rear. She flashed him a quick smile before ascending the stairs, contend and exhilarated with the knowledge that she would have him soon.

It turned out that not everyone was crazy about their plans, as they found out when they approached Merissa Manning, one of the many billionaires Valentine wanted to leave alive. Gazelle had wanted to kill her then and there, but Valentine, for reasons of his own, wanted her to be locked in on of his elaborate basement cells. To get her there, however, Gazelle had to fight her way through a multitude of security guards. _Finally_ , a chance to do what she was really good at.

"Stay back, Manning," she shouted, as the woman complied. "Richmond, don't come out of the dining room until I tell you to." As she gave her orders, she unzipped her skirt and tossed it aside in one fluid motion, revealing the tight black pants underneath. She grinned, filled with adrenaline, as she raced forward, and plunged her bladed foot into one man's stomach. The rest was a glorious blur. She was a junkie who had been without a fix for far too long, and she got every bit of joy she could from the high. The blood and screams filled her senses as she slid and sliced her way across the long hallway. It was better than sex, she had decided long ago. Power was the greatest aphrodisiac, and what could give someone more power than taking someone else's life?

It was over much too quickly, as she stood above the dismembered and decapitated bodies. She took Miss Manning's hand and dragged the speechless woman to her cell, not hearing her complaints, and instead reliving what had just happened. She returned to the first floor, and after a self-satisfied glance at the hallway where it had all happened, she tripped lightly to the linen closet. With the help of numerous towels and sheets, the bodies, and more importantly, the blood, were totally covered up in seconds.

She straightened her jacket and gave little tap at the door. "You can come out now Mr. Valentine."

"Is Miss Manning in the basement?"

"Yes, sir."

"And there's no blood in the hallway?"

"Not a drop, Mr. Valentine. I'll make sure the carpet gets cleaned tomorrow and that the bodies are disposed of tonight." She heard him walk towards the door, then another thought occurred to her. "Actually, Mr. Valentine, give me a few seconds to get upstairs; I still have some blood on me, and would like to wash it off in the bath."

"You do that, Gazelle."

"And then why don't you come up later to discuss the plans for tomorrow? You're meeting with those Fox execs, and judging by how they sounded on the phone, I think the movie is definite."

"Will do!"

She made her way to her room and drew herself a bath, a full one, in spite of what Valentine kept telling her about wasting water. Nothing was going to stop her that night.

"Hey, Gazelle!" He called out a few minutes later, knocking on her bedroom door.

"Come in, Richmond" she purred, or at least tried to. "I'll be right out." She got out of the bath and pulled a slip over her head. She turned toward the bathroom mirror and admired herself. The sexy nightgown was just perfect, accentuating everything she liked, without being too frilly. Plus, it was black, the only color she really liked wearing.

"You know, I haven't properly thanked you for saving me yet."

 _Oh, this was perfect_.

"No, you haven't."

"I feel like I owe you something now."

"Like what?" She opened the bathroom door and let him take in how she looked before walking over to him.

"Oh, well, I don't…I don't know."

"Maybe we can come up with something." She stood in front of him and gently put her hand on his chest. "You're so very clever." With a light flick of the wrist, she pushed him back onto the bed, and with a light tug on her arms, Valentine pulled her on top of him. She smiled and kissed him on the lips.

"Don't worry, I'm on the pill."

"You always have to be so practical?"

"Do I _look_ like I want children?"

"You're right. And don't worry about me; I'm totally clean."

"I know, I checked your records."

"Of course you did." He laughed and rolled over so that he was on top. As he did so, however, the blade of her foot caught on his pants, neatly slicing off a chunk of fabric.

"Hey, you know, would it be possible for you to…"

"Yeah, of course." They both sat up in bed and she took her bladed legs off. "You know, you're the only person alive who's seen me like this" she admitted to him, trying to break the tension. "Thank you for never asking about it."

"Of course not. I only want to know if you want to tell me, and if you don't, it doesn't matter."

She took his hand in hers and ran it along the stump where her leg ended, just below the knee. With anyone else, she would have felt vulnerable, at least in the few seconds before killing them, but she didn't mind when it was Valentine touching her leg. Ironically enough, she felt safe with him because he was the only person she knew who wasn't afraid of her. She kissed him again and took his hat off before reaching for his glasses.

"Oh, no, I wanna look at you." He kissed her, letting his hand slide up her leg. She wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss. She pulled back, and without any hesitation, tugged the straps from her shoulders and let the nightgown fall off of her.

"Damn!" He gazed at her. "You know, you are _gorgeous_ "

She grinned. "I know. Let's see what you've got."

"Yeah, well, you've got to keep in mind, I'm not so young…"

" _Richmond_ " she admonished, before pouncing on him and tugging his shirt off. "You're not bad." She gave an approving nod and ran her finger down his chest. He returned the gesture, before gently cupping her breasts in his hands, and stroking her nipples with his thumbs.

"Is that okay? You like that?"

She nodded, inhaling sharply at the sensation. "Feels nice."

After a few more moments, one of his hands traveled down her back and gripped her rear as tightly as he could.

Gazelle let out a little groan at the double sensation, especially when he leaned forward and started kissing her nipple. She pressed his head closer to her, and he began using his tongue and teeth as well. When she couldn't take any more, she got off him, and lay down on the bed.

"Come on, Richmond." She took his hand and pressed it against her clit.

"Jesus Christ, Gazelle." He murmured almost adoringly as he took the rest of his clothes off. He got on top of her, gently stroking her hair, and she draped her arms around his shoulders.

"Let's see what you can do, Mr. Valentine."

He eased into her slowly and gently at first, as they got used to the feel of each other's body. His natural exuberance quickly took over, however, as his thrusts became more rapid and forceful, and as his hand pressed down harder on her clit. Her hips bucked against him as her fingers dug into his back. He came almost immediately, but kept working at her most sensitive spot, the two of them finding the perfect rhythm, until Gazelle found it harder and harder to control herself, and she finally came undone with a yelp.

"Jesus fuck." Valentine rolled off her. "That was _amazing_!" he panted, turning to look at her.

"You came too, right? I mean, you made that cute little noise and all, but I just wanna make sure."

"Yes, Richmond. You made me come very nicely." She couldn't help but grin and blush a little.

He slipped an arm around her. "You know, Gazzy, you're really extraordinary."

"It's 'Gazzy' now, is it?"

"Only if you like it. Just in private, of course."

"Sounds a bit dirty to me." She wriggled in closer to him. "I like it."

"Gazzy" he repeated, half to himself. "It'll be fun when all this is over, and we can just relax."

"Richmond, we'll have a whole planet to run, we won't be able to relax."

"You're always such a downer." He took a bit of her hair in his hand and tickled her nose with it. "Can I stay?"

"It's your house."

"Do you _want_ me to stay? I know some people are weird about sharing beds."

"Yes, Richmond, I want you to stay." She kissed his nose before nestling her head against him again. "Now, the movie people are coming tomorrow at nine, and Rodney's bringing over all the necessary papers at 7:30, giving us plenty of time to triple check them ourselves, assuming he comes on time, then at eleven, we've got—what? Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing, Gazzy, it's just that you're so…I don't even know _what_ you are, but I like it."

"Right, well, we can go over the schedule tomorrow morning."

"Yeah, that might be best; it's kinda hard for me to concentrate while you're all naked and next to me."

She didn't say anything, but instead reached down and intertwined her fingers with his.

"Seriously though, I probably should remind you about the meeting with Professor McLoud at eleven tomorrow."

He laughed. "I love you too, Gazzy. I think we're gonna be great together."

"I think we already are."

The End


End file.
